I'm yours
by ipodder
Summary: He’s never really been a romantic person, but the fact that he hasn’t uttered those three words, eight letters after five months hardly bothers you, because other things he says, or does means so much more.


He's never really been a romantic person, but the fact that he hasn't uttered those three words, eight letters after five mont

**He's never really been a romantic person, but the fact that he hasn't uttered those three words, eight letters after five months hardly bothers you, because other things he says, or does means so much more.**

_It's all about you, Brooke_

He said this in the most unromantic, unloving manner possible. But somehow it gave you chills. You were both snuggled up on your creamy white sofa, eating chinese takeaway. He wanted indian, but one pout from you and he relented. Both of your eyes were glued to the TV screen, Sarah Jessica Parker's voice travels throughout the room, and he cringes but remains silent. You had soy sauce on your chin and he gives you a smirk as he leans in softly to lick it off. You blush and capture his lips in a slow, sweet kiss. As his tongue grazes yours, you feel his hands slowly making its way towards the zip on your jeans. You gently push him away and whisper that you're exhausted, and instead of getting mad, he kisses your nose and apologizes. You go back to snuggling and you place your head on his broad shoulders. He reaches down to kiss your head every few minutes or so, and soon afterwards, you both fall into a deep slumber.

The next night consisted of indian food, beer and a collector's edition of _Rambo_ and the events that followed was even better.

_Are you happy?_

You were wearing a B Davis original, a mid length red dress with a dangerous cut at the back. His suit cladded arm was wrapped around yours protectively. It was the pre wedding party for Lucas and Peyton, and even though you knew it was coming, even though you're more than a hundred percent over the broody blonde, it was still slightly awkward. If somebody told the eighteen year old version of yourself that this day would come eventually, and maybe you would have spared yourself the heartache of writing letters and pouring your heart out at Naley's wedding reception, and all the hopes and happy moments would have hurt less, because you'll know that it wasn't meant to be. But as soon as those words left his mouth, your heart swells and you tear up, because you love him way too much and didn't want him to doubt it. You reach up and kiss his cheek tenderly, 'You're everything to me.' And you hope that was enough.

You know that behind the question lay numerous layers of insecurity. He worries that you deserve more than a tough talking bartender, that you deserve someone who isn't afraid to tell you those three words. He worries that he's holding you back from greatness.

But as Lucas and Peyton say 'I do', his grip on your hand tightens, and you're not sure if it was from jealousy or love, but _you _love him for it.

_I know you need more, and I hate myself for not being able to give it to you_

Stupid Naley and Broody blondes family bliss. It made him insecure, you know it. He sees the way your eyes melt at Jamie's 'I love you, aunt Brooke'. You know how his stomach sickens at the thought of a five year old expressing his love for you, simply because he, your boyfriend, can't even bring himself to say it. When Peyton and Haley confront you and ask you why you stick around, your reply was truthful enough to silence them.

'Because you guys did as well, didn't you?'

It doesn't matter that he doesn't say it, but at times like these, you sometimes wonder (and feel guilty about it afterwards) if he even _feels _it. As you all gather around Naley's dining table, drenched in sickening domestic bliss from your two married couple friends, you can't help but wonder how your lives became so small town, so domestic, because at 23, more than half of you were married with a child, or in the brooders' case, with one on the way. But you can't help it, you admit that you want _this _so bad, you long for the security and love that you cruely lacked growing up.

But the problem is you're not sure if _he_ is the right person to give it to you.

Peyton brings this up with you during a coffee date.

'Brooke, is being with him keeping you away from what you truly want?'

But the way you got mad, got up and got away answered her question for her.

You love him so much that it hurts for people to question it.

_If you can't stand it that much, then just leave me. I'll be fine without you, it'll be better without you anyway. I'm not some insecure child who constantly needs to be looked after._

After you hit him till you cry, you scream that even though he's a jerk, and that all her friends thinks she can do so much better, she can't bear the thought of being without him, of not seeing him every day, of not kissing him, of not snuggling with him while watching a bad rom com. He tears up too and screams back and begs to know _why _you can't leave, he wants to know the _real_ reason.

And although you know he doesn't deserve your answer, much less your presence, you do it anyway, because he means that much to you.

Before you slam the door of your own house, you turn to him, face covered in tears, you tell him that you can't bear to leave, because you _love_ him _so damn much_. But you do anyway, and you return the next morning to find him curled on your sofa, fast asleep. That was the first time you realized that before last night, you've never uttered those three words either. You bend down to graze your lips against his, and he flutters his eyes. His smile breaks out and he captures your lips with his, refusing to let go.

The way he smiled at you that night, the way he ordered your favourite food and the concern in his eyes whilst he asked you about where you spent the night showed that he was sorry, that he regretted picking a fight with you, and you know that he does _love _you, in his own way. He knows why you were being cranky last night, it was because you wanted to hear _it _so damn much that it hurt. You know that actions speak louder than words, but you just _needed _to hear it, to prove that it's _real_.

_It scares the hell out of me, this baby. But I'm so happy, and I hope you know that_

Sometimes you wonder how strange it is to be carrying a child of a man who hasn't proposed or told you he loved you. It's been a year, and sometimes you avoid seeing your friends for an entire week, because you can't bear the pity in Haley's eyes, or the confused look behind Nathan's, and especially the anger in Peyton's and the piercing glare behind Lucas's, because you know that they don't understand. Sometimes you feel scared for your child, how much damage will it do to her? To grow up like she did, without hearing those words out of a father's lips.

Bella Davis Manganiello was born nine months later. One night when you couldn't sleep, you toss and turn and reach for his mucular frame. When the sheets were all you grabbed, a fraction of you were petrified that he's gone. And you hate the fact that you need so desperately to hear those words to feel fully secure.

You get up and walk to your daughter's room. Your eyes squint in surprise at the dim light coming from the room, he was sitting on a rocking chair, Bella in his arms. You decide to remain annonymous and feel slightly guilty to be spying.

Right on cue, he looks up and doesn't seem at all startled by your presence. Maybe it was the curly haired baby in his arms, or the way you look in his black t shirt with the reflection of light on your dimples, or maybe even the feeling of domesticity, of security or perhaps the realization that you both now have something you've _never _had, he smiles at you with his mouth and his eyes.

And whispers that he loves you.

Bella lets out a funny chuckle, as though she can't believe it's taken that long and you walk over to him with teary eyes. You reach over to put Bella in her crib after kissing her soft curls and place yourself in his lap.

The look in your eyes and the softness of your lips says it all. He knows that you're his, and now you know that he's yours too.


End file.
